


Vive le Vent

by Destinyawakened, SeaOfEmpathy, You_Are_As_Alone_As_I_Am



Category: Charlie Countryman (2013), Hannibal (TV), Hannibal - Fandom, Tempo (2003)
Genre: Alternate Universe, Anal, Beating, Christmas, First Kisses, Fluff, Fucking, Gifts, Jewelry, M/M, New Years Eve, Romance, Smut, WinterMurderland, break ups, hannigram AU, hook ups
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-12-15
Updated: 2016-12-15
Packaged: 2018-09-08 20:36:30
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 8,466
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8860135
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Destinyawakened/pseuds/Destinyawakened, https://archiveofourown.org/users/SeaOfEmpathy/pseuds/SeaOfEmpathy, https://archiveofourown.org/users/You_Are_As_Alone_As_I_Am/pseuds/You_Are_As_Alone_As_I_Am
Summary: Nigel finds himself at a local jewelry store in Paris, hunting for the perfect ring to propose to Gabi. He meets Jack Ganzer, who is working there to keep himself busy while Sarah is traveling. When disaster strikes each of them, they find themselves facing the holidays heartbroken until they discover comfort and pleasure in each other’s arms.





	

 

Working for Sarah’s bosses never settled well with Jack Ganzer, not one to take rules, or be told what to do, well. So, while Sarah was out earning her money and paying for his keep, Jack took up a real job, for now, at a quiet jewelry shop in Paris, mostly just scoping out the joint for another time, should it come to that. The owners were great, very trusting of Jack, with his American accent and floppy curls, the boyish good looks did they job well.

One evening, a slow one, even for Christmas being just around the corner, Jack had a customer enter, tall and handsome, with blond and ash streaked hair. Jack’s eyes lit up, a smile creeping in over his face. “Looking for yourself or someone else? I could suggest these diamond cufflinks for a man of your stature…”

The man walked up to the counter, leaning against it and looking in the display case. He shook his arms out, trying to warm up. “Looking for a ring. An engagement ring...but something fucking unique, not like everyone else has,” the man said, a thick Eastern European accent coloring his deep voice. His eyes flickered up, taking in the younger man. Youthful and rosy-cheeked, and clearly American, he surmised the boy must make a killing at this job in the heart of Paris. _All the romantic moony-eyed girls must love him_ , he thought to himself.

 _Oh_ , Jack thought, not the least discouraged, but had to change his tactic quick. He lead the man over to the case of sparkly diamond rings, ranging in settings, sizes, and and choices of metal. “Something big or is she modest?”

“Big. She's a musician. Fucking classy. Young. Probably more your age,” he said, nodding. “Something in gold. She looks good in gold,” The man said, looking over the rings carefully. He pulled something out of his pocket, another ring, small and brass, with a dainty opal at the heart. “I brought this for the size...I don’t really know how this works,” he said. It looked so small in his large, veiny hands.

Jack plucked the ring from the other man’s hands, and looked at it. It was trashy, but cute, sort of like something someone gave a promise ring. “She’s about a size five then.” He set the ring back into the large palm it came from and tugged out all the sized rings in a five. “What sort of musician? Nothing large or heavy, I would think, to weigh her fingers down.” Jack gestured to the row of sparkly princess cuts, one stone, but still bulky looking, but drew the man’s attention to the next, with the yellow gold and chocolate diamonds. “These are new. Chocolate diamonds. Not many people have them yet.”

“Cellist,” he answered, and picked up one of the rings the younger man had pointed out. “Chocolate diamonds? I’ve never heard of them.” He examined the ring closely. It really looked exactly like something Gabi would love. “Yeah. Yeah this is it.” His eyes danced with excitement and he pulled a large wad of cash from his back pocket. “I’ll take it. I’m Nigel, by the way. Thanks for helping with this. I’ve been nervous all fucking day.”

Jack pulled a ring box from below to set the ring in, nice and black velvet, grey inside, showing off the amber-like diamonds of the ring’s three stones. “Jack,” the kid said, offering his free hand. “Pleasure to meet you, Nigel.”

The older man pressed his palm against Jack’s. “You’ve made me a very happy man. Pleasure to meet you too.” He looked at some of the other jewelry, pacing around the showroom as the young man rang up his purchase. “I’ll probably be back. Gotta fuck up at some point and need to beg forgiveness, you know. It’s a nice store. You aren’t from here, are you?” he asked, filling the space with a little idle conversation.

“No, The States,” Jack said, counting the cash and putting it all in the drawer, feeling Nigel out before he decides to pocket some, and hands the rest back to him with a receipt. “Flowers work too, but I wouldn’t mind seeing you around here again…”

Nigel looks Jack over appreciatively. He may be in love, but he still has eyes. He holds his palm out to take his change, distracted by how blue and bright the younger man’s eyes are. “You wouldn’t, hmm? Well, I’ll have to pay you another visit soon, then,” he flirts cheekily, winking and slipping the ring box into his pocket.

Knowing the man wasn't coming back-that nothing will come of this- Jack smiled bigger, flashing perfectly white teeth as his fingers pad against Nigel's palm as he pulled it away. “If she says yes, the cufflinks would look great with a tux…”

“She’ll say yes. I mean, wouldn’t you?” he smirked, hesitant to let go of the young man’s hand so soon.

“To you? Why not?” Jack flirted.

The older man looked over at the cufflinks. “I’ll take them. They’d look good with the suit I’m wearing tomorrow night,” he said, though he actually found himself genuinely wanting to come back. “And, you know, you could do worse, gorgeous,” Nigel quipped. Jack rang up the jewelry and packaged it for Nigel with a smile. As he did, the Romanian leered at the boy’s round, pert backside when Jack bent over to get a box.

Jack gave Nigel the box for the cuffs and then his receipt for that too. “Done worse, always find better.”

“Do you? Lucky. Thanks, Jack. I'm sure you'll see me again,” he grinned. The older man deliberately let his rough fingers brush against Jack’s hand. He saw no harm in a little flirting; it was rather his nature to be either very charming or cripplingly intimidating.

It really was a shame that Nigel was going to ask some girl to marry him. Jack sighed. “Let me know what she says, I’ll buy you a drink to celebrate…”

“I’ll do that.” The older man turned and walked out the door smiling. A drink with the handsome kid sounded great, but he refocused on the task at hand. _I’ll be back soon enough with the good news,_ he thought to himself.

***

“I’m sorry darling. It’s a last minute thing. I know our anniversary is tonight, I promise I’ll make it up to you, love,” Nigel insisted over the phone. He’d called Gabi to let her know he’d be out all night; they were supposed to go to dinner at Restaurant Lasserre, where he’d had to secure reservations almost two months in advance. He told her he’d cancelled them, but of course he hadn’t. The Romanian planned to ask her to marry him that very night.

He’d kept the suit at his office, and showered and changed there, nervous as all fuck about the evening. Nigel was not the kind of man to get nervous about anything, but he had good reason for it now. It had been about a year since he’d suffered that nearly fatal stab wound and found himself bedridden and desolate, his only company the sweet sounds of Gabi’s heavenly cello. Meeting the young woman had changed his life; she was fiery and passionate, a formidable match for him, the only woman he’d ever met that could keep up with him and never back down. It was truly love; the gruff Romanian was a romantic at heart, though only people very close to him ever really knew that.

He stopped at the florist for two dozen deep crimson roses, the same color as her brilliant hair, and headed home to surprise her.

He turned the key in the lock and walked in, immediately hearing the sounds of groaning coming from their bedroom. Closing the door quietly, he set the roses on the ground, stalking to the room silently. His heart began to thrum deafeningly, and he felt the blood in his veins rapidly turning into molten lava. He entered the bedroom and saw Gabi, lying beneath a scrawny kid, her head thrown back in bliss.

In one blinding moment, he felt a stab at his heart that rivalled the pain he’d felt at the near gutting he’d healed from almost a year ago. He crossed the room in what seemed like a single step, and grabbed the man by the back of the head with one hand, yanking him brutally to the floor.

Gabi screamed in shock and scrambled up the bed, covering herself with a sheet.

The Romanian slammed his fist into the kid’s face, and instantly his ugly mug seemed to swell like an overfilled balloon. “Excuse the _fuck_ out of me, but _who the fuck are you?”_ Nigel asked, his voice deadly quiet in sharp contrast to the savagery of his actions. He pulled his fist back again, pounding it this time into the kid’s cheek, and blood began to geyser from his nose and mouth.

“MChurrlleee..” the boy choked out, unable to speak and gasping for air, curling into the fetal position on the floor. Nigel picked him up from beneath his arms and threw him against the wall as though he weighed nothing.

“Gabi, you’d fucking better start talking now. Who the fuck is this piece of shit I’m about to fucking kill?”

“Charlie, fucking fuck, Nigel I’m sorry, it means nothing, he means nothing, what the …you were…he…” she stammered, terrified, tears rolling down her red face.

Nigel’s eyes blazed sanguine as he shoved Charlie against the wall by his throat, feet flailing below. “Fuck, Gabi. If you’re going to fucking stab me in the back with some prick, you could’ve fucking picked one that was at least older than _fucking fifteen._ Some fucking man you are, _pizda nenorocitule_.”

 The kid panted, snot and plasma dripping in sticky globs from his nose and mouth, the entire left side of his face inflated. Still, he managed to inhale just enough to spit at Nigel, a few teeth coming out in the process. The older man looked down at the blood staining his tie, and shattered his cheekbone with the next blow, letting him fall to the floor before kicking him in the ribs. The sound of crunching bones could be heard as the kid bleated pathetically, a pool of blood forming around him from his violent coughing.

Nigel left him and went to the bed. He looked at Gabi, his eyes full of agony and betrayal, completely cold and yet at the same time, damp with pain. “You are to fucking pack your shit, take this _fără valoare cacat_ and get the _fuck_ out. When I get back here, I better not fucking see a single drop of blood or anything of yours. If I see you, or him, ever again, I’ll fucking kill you both. That’s a fucking promise.”

Gabi nodded in wordless terror, sobbing. “Nigel, please…”

He looked in her eyes a moment longer, watching as she couldn’t hold his gaze in her shame. “After everything we’ve fucking been though, I hope he was fucking worth it.” Nigel turned, kicking Charlie once more before leaving.

He got in his car, closing the door and trying to wipe the blood off his tie. Giving up, he loosened it and yanked it over his head, throwing it across the interior of the vehicle; tears filled his eyes finally, and he slammed his fist on the wheel.

*** 

Jack went home, to the apartment he shared with Sarah, only to find one of her bosses sitting in the living room waiting. He dropped his bag near the door and approached with caution, eyes narrowed. Something was amiss here.

“Where’s Sarah?” he asked, more than aware she was gone, but her boss never showed up unless…

“Sarah’s dead, boy. Now, she failed her job for me, so we’re taking everything that’s her’s, including this apartment,”  the man said. Two men from the back wandered out with a bag of things, of what Jack could assume were _his_ things.

The bigger one took Jack by the shoulders and then shoved him right back out the door, throwing his bag and his satchel out with him. The door locked and Jack was left standing there, dumbfounded.

Sarah was dead. He was homeless and penniless, to boot. He picked up his things and started out into the street, wondering if he could just crash at the shop.

***

Nigel had found a bar that was open, not his usual place but he didn’t give a flying fuck. He stumbled in, his shirt half open, proceeding to get completely, shit-faced drunk. Christmas music blared over the speakers and he decided the drunker he got, the less it bothered him. In the bathroom, he’d managed to wash the cocksucker’s blood off his knuckles and shirt, not caring how he looked. The bartender wisely didn’t ask any questions. The sun was peeking over the horizon by the time he stumbled to his office, no desire to go home yet.

He gave one of his men the keys to his place, and asked him to go back and clean for him, make sure she was gone. He didn’t want a single trace of her stink left in his home. He didn’t trust himself to go back, didn’t trust what he might do if he saw anything of hers. He spent two nights sleeping on the sofa in his office before finally going home. There was nothing there- it was spotless. He took a hot shower, wiping his hands over his face and cleaning up.

As the Romanian got dressed, the two jewelry boxes fell from his trouser pockets, and he remembered the boy at the shop. That gorgeous fucking face, sweet big blue eyes, and that ass. He needed to return the fucking ring anyway. It was Christmas for fuck’s sake, he was supposed to be engaged to the fucking love of his life, not returning a fucking ring he never even got to offer. He wished he’d killed both of them. What goes around comes around though, and soon enough he knew the whore would cheat on that fucking prick, if there was anything left of him.

Pushing through the crowd of holiday shoppers, he made his way back to the jewelry store, hoping Jack would still be working there. Handsome kid like that probably got lots of job offers. He briefly wondered if he had any positions for him to fill, chuckling to himself at the double entendre. Seeing a couple holding hands stopped in the middle of the street for a kiss, his mood quickly soured again. He scowled at them as he entered the store, hands buried in his pockets sullenly.

***

Just coming back from getting coffee, Jack reached the shop when Nigel did, unlocking it with the key foolishly entrusted to him by the owners. He looked at Nigel, the grumpy look on his face, and touched his arm to bring him out of it.

“Hey there, Nigel,” he said, as sweet as he could. “Hope you’re not back to buy more gifts for her already.”

The larger man stepped inside the shop as Jack held the door for him. Just seeing the boy again seemed to lift his spirits a bit. “No, nothing like that at all. In fact, here to return the fucking ring,” he said, following Jack to the counter.

Jack smoothed back his hair and set his coffee aside behind the counter and then gave Nigel a the best, empathic, sorrowful look he could muster, despite how he actually felt. “I’m so sorry here. She must not realize what she’s missing out on.”

Nigel set the box on the counter and slumped over it a little. “I came home to surprise her for our anniversary, and she was fucking some scrawny kid. I threw her out. Lucky I didn’t kill them both.” Nigel rubbed his eyes wearily, pretending to look at the jewelry as he shook off the emotion glazing over his eyes again. He coughed, clearing his throat and straightened up with a sigh.

Jack took the ring and started the return for it, but couldn’t help look at Nigel, honest sympathy in his eyes. “She doesn’t deserve you then.”

Nigel met his gaze, arrested by just how beautiful the young man really was. “That’s a nice thought, but the reality is I’m a fucking idiot. _‘Til death do us part’_? What the fuck was I thinking?”

“You were thinking about how great she’s been to you and how you wanted that forever. It’s natural. Not something I’ve ever thought about myself, though,” Jack explained, and returned the ring finally, setting it back in the case, and then handed Nigel his money, counting it back out to him.

“I suppose, but if it’s all lies, I don’t want it.” Nigel took the money, stuffing the wad in his jeans. He looked around the shop, trying to get his mind off his current state of affairs. “You work here alone all the time?” he asked.

“Just right now,” Jack said, “The owners travel a lot, leave me in charge to watch over things.” But not for long, if Jack had his way, but right now he needed a place to stay, and they were gone for another week.

“You have a girl?” Nigel asked, knowing now he was getting a bit chatty, but in truth he had no desire to go back home just yet.

“Uhm,” Jack began, eyes dropped to the counter.  “Had. Sorta. Convenient sort of relationship.”

“Had? So, what did she do? Or did _you_ do something?” The Romanian crossed his arms over his broad chest. _So, he's single,_ he thought to himself.

“She got mixed up with the wrong people. Working for them. She left a bit ago. Her boss came to our apartment and kicked me out, said she was dead…” Jack explained, with grim shrug of his shoulders.

“Damn. Dead, eh? I’m sorry to hear that,” Nigel responded, though in truth he wasn’t _that_ sorry. “And they fucking kicked you out at Christmas? That's pretty fucked up. Where are you staying now?” It sounded to him like the crowd she ran with was the same crowd Nigel did. People that fucked with him didn't live long enough to talk about it.

“She owed him money, so he took everything. I’m staying here until the owners come back, I’ll figure it out from there,” Jack sighed, and pressed his palms into the countertop. He knew he should be more worried about why Sarah’s death hardly mattered to him, but honestly, that relationship wasn’t going far.

Nigel looked at his watch and then back at Jack with a smile. “So, you want to get a drink with me? It's Christmas, and well, it kind of seems like we both could really use a drink."  

It _was_ Christmas, and Jack had forgotten completely, still thinking he had days ahead of him. He looked from his coffee to Nigel, and smirked. “You don’t mind having a drink with some kid?”

“I’m asking you. I wouldn’t if I minded. In fact, I want to,” the older man said with a seductive glint in his eyes. It was just what he needed, this beautiful distraction. Jack’s blue eyes pulled at him, sucked him into his world, one that didn’t involve thinking about his failure, or that shitbag Charlie. He needed this.

Jack didn’t mind being a rebound, he was used to being used, and using in return. He didn’t attach to people easily, not without some kind of arrangement, or knowing what he would get out of it. He nodded his head, and dropped the coffee into the trash. He hopped the counter with one hand. “Let’s go then.”

Nigel went to hold the door for Jack, waiting for him to lock up afterward. “Glad the bosses are out of town so you can have a little fun,” he commented.

“As you said, it is Christmas. I shouldn’t even be here,” Jack explained with a grin, and locked up the shop, tugging his jacket close around him. It wasn’t too cold, but far cooler than where he came from. “Plus, I like having fun more than working.”

Nigel couldn't help but take another long look at Jack's ass as he turned away from him to close up. _“Fuck,”_ he whispered under his breath. He grinned like he'd been caught as Jack turned back towards him, but he just shoved his hands in the pockets of his leather jacket and led the way.  

Jack slipped his satchel over his shoulder and waist, and followed after Nigel, comfortable in silence, though he did like watching the other man out of the corner of his eye with a smirk on lips. “What bars are open Christmas Day?”

“Oh there's one near my place. I know the owner, an old Romanian friend. Good guy. It's a fucking hole in the wall but he's got top shelf shit, and no one fucking bothers me. People mind their own business. My kinda place,” Nigel said.

Jack slipped his hands into the pockets of his jeans as they walked. “Is it far?”

“The bar or my place?” he quipped, laughing and glancing over at Jack.  

“Both,” Jack said with a seductive lilt to his tone, gazing over at Nigel, looking him over once again.

Nigel bit his plush bottom lip at that, unable to keep from smirking himself. He raised his eyebrows and hummed. “Just another block up and a right,” he answered.

Before long they were at the entrance of what didn't even look like a bar, just a nondescript door with a red neon light adjacent. He opened it for Jack and waved his hand chivalrously. “Beauty before age, darling.”

Jack stepped in, feeling as though he were diving right into another one of Sarah’s fantasy jobs where she was good at what she did, but only put them in danger. Only this time, Nigel seemed like the type that knew exactly what he was doing. “For now,” he crooned lightly, stepping toward the bar.

“Salut, Nigel, Crăciun fericit! Ce mai faci? ” a big, gray-haired man at the bar called out jovially to Nigel.

Nigel approached the bar and held out his hand, slapping his palm against the other man's rather hand. “Like fucking hell actually. Și dumneavoastră?

“Can't fucking complain, won't do any good. And who's this pup you have with you?” the man grinned at Jack warmly.

“My new friend, Jack. We both find ourselves down on our luck tonight and need some cheering up.”

“I have just what you need, yes. Do you drink whiskey, Jack?”

Jack watched the exchange, only knowing a little French, but acted as though he knew everything said. He got the gist, anyway. “I do, actually.”

The gruff old man poured a couple fingers each of the amber fluid, sliding them over to Nigel. “How's the girl, Nigel?”

Nigel handed Jack the glass and tossed back his own quickly. “Gone. Fucking dumped the cheating little cunt. She was fucking some piece of shit in _our bed_.”

The man's face fell and he poured another serving out for him. “Say no more, my friend. It's on me.” Nigel nodded and took the glass, directing Jack over to a booth in the back. “You're always the best, prietenul meu.” He sighed and raised his glass to Jack. “How about a toast to freedom? Though it may not be entirely good for you, it's better for me.”

Jack downed his quickly to get another pour and then sat down with Nigel, clinking their glasses together. “I’ll survive, I usually do.”

Nigel leaned forward, looking rather intensely into Jack's face. “We're both survivors, right? You're fucking lucky your woman's bosses didn't kill you too. I do business with those types. Tend not to leave loose ends. Fucking glad they didn't hurt you,” he says, licking whiskey from his lips and staring at Jack's own cherry, full pout.

“I was never a threat to them,” Jack sighed, sipping his second drink, letting it warm this throat thoroughly, down through his chest. He grinned, leaning over to meet Nigel’s gaze. “They could decide later, though, that I am…”

Nigel leveled his gaze. “So, I suppose it’s good you know me, now.” Normally he’d never invite himself to get tangled up in someone’s business, but he could definitely make an exception.

“How’s that?” Jack asked, taking another sip, slowly, watching Nigel. He wouldn’t pretend to know who he was, but he could guess.

“I'm the guy that makes problems go away. Anyone fucks with me or my friends, they tend not to last too fucking long in this life.” He slid a little closer to Jack in the small booth.

“You know, Jack, you could come stay with me, if you need a place...until you get back on your feet,” the Romanian offered, leaning back and killing the last of his drink. He waved at his friend who came over with the bottle and poured a fresh round.

Jack looked into his glass and finished his. Though he was small and could hold his liquor, he was sure not as well as Nigel. “The last time someone offered me that, I stayed for two years…”

Nigel swallowed his whiskey slowly, the warm liquid slipping down his throat like a soothing elixir. “Would that be so terrible? Besides, you're not a charity case, Jack. I can tell you're a clever, hard-working young man. I'd like to see just how hard working you can be, in fact,” the Romanian said suggestively, running his fingers around the rim of his glass and holding eye contact with Jack.    

Oh, Jack could do this, too, and it helped that he’d wanted to jump Nigel the second he saw him. Thank God Sarah was dead, she might actually want to share, and Jack wasn’t in the sharing mood anymore. Jack smiled and set his glass down for another pour, scooting closer to Nigel, thigh to thigh. “Will that be on the lease?”

“It might be. We’ll have to put something hard down on paper. But first, we’ll see what you can do. Anything in particular you’re skilled at, Jack?” The older man had lowered his voice almost an octave, and his amber eyes dropped to focus on Jack’s mouth, admiring his ruby red pout.

“Oh, you’re gonna find I’m good at a lot of things,” Jack whispered, slipping his hand to Nigel’s muscular thigh. “Really, _really_ good with my mouth.”

Nigel's breath hitched in his throat. _What a fucking minx,_ he thought to himself. “Well we have something in common then, darling. Nothing like a little oral fixation to spread the holiday cheer,” he purred lustfully.

Jack downed his drink and shifted over into Nigel’s lap, straddling with him with a wicked smirk. “If you let me, I’ll have you forgetting all about that girl who doesn’t deserve you.”

In one motion Jack had somehow hopped in the Romanian’s lap, and he found himself running his hands up the young man’s athletic thighs and over the very tempting backside he’d been staring at earlier. He glanced at the bar to see his friend had shot him a look and then averted his gaze elsewhere. The place was pretty empty; everyone was likely home or at holiday parties with families or friends. Even still, Nigel wanted a little privacy. He grinned up at Jack’s beautiful face, something in his chest tightening as he noticed the way his thick eyelashes curled up at the ends, how his messy ringlets fell into his face as he leaned over alluringly. The blinking holiday lights around the room reflected off his azure eyes, making him look especially magical and tempting to the older man. “I’m thinking we should take this important discussion to my place, wouldn’t you agree, gorgeous?” he asked.

Leaning in, Jack bit Nigel’s full bottom lip, dragging his teeth over once, sucking the plump flesh into his mouth, and then popped off. Jack slid off his lap, and out of the booth, beckoning the older man with him.

Nigel slapped a few dollars on the bar for his friend, winking at him. “Noapte,” the man called after him as he held the door open for Jack.

As they exited the bar, Nigel pulled the boy a bit forcefully towards the wall, a darkened shadow falling across them. He opened his mouth over Jack’s, returning the kiss the younger man had given him inside. Jack groaned into it, tugging Nigel closer by his jacket, groaning into his mouth as his need started to boil hotly.

Leaning him against the wall at his back, Nigel licked over Jack’s lips and slid his tongue inside, and pushed him up against the wall with his hips. “I couldn't wait,” he whispered, taking his hand and tangling their fingers together to lead him back down the street. He could barely walk he was suddenly so hard.  

“I can see that,” Jack whispered, knocked a little senseless with the kiss, letting Nigel lead him away now.

Within a block they were coming up to Nigel's apartment. He unlocked the front door and guided Jack in by the small of his back. The space had the accoutrements of a 16th century french manor, with ornate carved wood detailing over the walls; the rooms hearkened to another time, and it was a very old but beautiful classic Parisian flat. Gabi had filled it with feminine touches, which had since thankfully been stripped down to Nigel’s own preferred sparse style of furnishings, modern and comfortable in stark contrast to the architecture. How different it felt coming in this time, certainly more welcome with his new guest, one who he wanted very much to ravish. “Home sweet home, gorgeous,” Nigel said, dropping the keys on a table in the foyer. He pushed Jack roughly against the wall, kissing him again breathlessly.

The flat was beautiful, with old decorations adorning the walls, but Jack had no time to admire them as Nigel pressed him into the wall. Jack dragged the other man closer by the hips, their mouths conjoining seamlessly, never parting for a second.

Nigel moaned into Jack's mouth obscenely, pushing up the fabric of his sweater, under the thin tee shirt, calloused palms rubbing his toned belly and up his chest. He ground his erection against Jack's slim hips. When he finally pulled his lips away, he cursed softly under his breath in Romanian.  

Jack took that moment to remove his sweater and shirt all at once and drop them to the floor as he toed off his sneakers, and shoved his jeans down. He pulled Nigel back in, fingers roughly running through his silky strands of silvery hair, a groan of his own wrecking it’s way through his chest from deep in his belly. “You’re wearing too much… let’s fix that.”

Nigel began unbuttoning his shirt, shrugging it off his broad shoulders and dropping it to the floor. He kept his intense eye contact with Jack as he unbuckled his belt, the metal pieces clinking together and punctuating the heavy air between them. Next came the sound of his zipper being pulled down, and as soon as he was free of them, he shove Jack against the wall again, bending his knees to rut their leaking cocks against each other roughly. “Better?”  

“Yes,” Jack whispered, reaching to tug on both their cocks in one fist, kissing Nigel against with a heated fury of lips and tongue, teeth clinking softly together in his frenzy. “Do you top, Nigel?” He was pretty certain the older man did.

“I abso-fucking-lutely do, gorgeous, and I've been thinking about it since the moment I laid eyes on your fucking perfect ass,” Nigel growled into Jack's ear. He moved him away from the wall and cupped said ass, kneading the round, fleshy globes firmly.  

“Maybe you should have had that drink with me that night and you could have had it then,” Jack crooned, nipping at Nigel’s bottom lip slowly, hand against his hairy, perfect chest as he pushed him toward the living room.

“Maybe so, but it was worth the wait,” Nigel rasped. He let himself be pulled into the living room, delighting in the taste of every inch of peachy, sweet skin he could get his lips on. Jack's teasing little bites drove him wild, he longed to feel him really sink his teeth in, and to show him, he bit a little harder along the side of Jack's neck.  

“Good,” Jack breathed, groaning at the bite as he as he sank back against the long couch and pulled Nigel over him, biting his collarbone and then down his chest, to a nipple.

Nigel let his head fall back, groaning at the contact of teeth against his nipple. He tangled his fingers in chestnut curls. “Fuck, you _do_ have a talented mouth,” he gasped. He tugged Jack back up, longing to feel more of that smooth peachy skin.  

Jack grinned and kissed Nigel again, winding their tongues together slowly, groaning devilishly against his mouth. “I could keep showing you…”

The older man scraped his teeth along Jack's neck, reaching down to stroke at his dripping cock. “You should definitely show me, darling. Not entirely convinced yet,” he teased. He reclined more fully against the sofa, spreading his thick thighs invitingly.

Now that Jack was on top, he moved down Nigel’s body slowly, working over his nipples with his teeth, and then down, lathing tongue against muscles and grooved hips. He breathed against Nigel’s hip, and took in his scent as he nuzzled through the nest of hair, groping his cock.

Nigel's lips curled into a smile as he looked down to watch the young man sniff lustfully at him. His cock twitched in anticipation, jerking against Jack's hand of it's own accord. Every wet lick from the boy’s talented, strong tongue send a shockwave of pleasure straight down to his groin.

Pink lips wrapped around Nigel’s cock slowly, tonguing the tip first and then taking him down with showly length, until he reached the hilt and came back up, and did it again, picking up pace with each go. Jack tugged on his balls, squeezing them.

“Oh fuck, fuck _yes_ , Jack,” Nigel sighed, his jaw falling slack. He began whispering softly in Romanian, his accent thickening as his pleasure grew. “Get me ready, get me nice and hard so you can ride me, gorgeous,” he whispered as his cock filled completely, the veins up the sides bulging and the satiny olive skin darkening, now slick with Jack's saliva.

The words only riled Jack to continue to suck Nigel’s thickening cock, tasting the precome he caused himself. He gave Nigel’s balls one slap, and then licked his lips after pulling off. “Oh, I’ll ride you…” And he went right back at it.

Nigel fisted his hand into Jack's hair roughly and leaned up, his abdomen tensing as he rubbed his thumb over Jack's hollowed cheeks, feeling his cock head through the soft skin. “You think you can take all of this, gorgeous?” he whispered, trying not to come like a teenager at the vision of those beautiful lips wrapped around his flesh.

Jack swallowed, and fisted Nigel’s cock once. “Yes. Got lube around here?”

“Oh fuck, Jack, yeah, yeah. In the fucking, here, in the table,” he panted, pointed at the small end table behind the boy.  

Jack reached for the lube and found it, he used some and slicked his fingers with it, sliding them into his body, stretching himself out as he let Nigel watch. “Mm…”

Nigel felt his eyes glaze over at the depraved image of Jack's long, lean body arching into his own hand, opening himself for the older man. He wrapped his hand around his own flesh, pushing down hard against the base and squeezing to calm himself. The younger man's chest flushed as he fucked himself steadily, a wet sound emerging, and Nigel could only stare as arousal swept over his features.

“Want in me?” Jack asked, taking his fingers out, he slathered more lube over Nigel’s cock, and then slipped himself over Nigel, slowly, head thrown back as he felt every ridge slide into him.

Nigel slipped his hands to Jack's hips, reveling in the way his gorgeous blue eyes nearly rolled into the back of his head as he impaled himself on his thickness. His own hips twitched upwards and he stilled himself, fighting the urge to flip the boy over and simply fuck into him wildly. The vision above him was far too spectacular to end just yet. “Fuck, yes, Jack…” he gasped once more.

Working his hips down, and then up again, Jack started to fuck himself on Nigel, slowly at first, and then faster, pacing himself as his long fingered hands clenched against perfect pectorals. “Nigel…”

The Romanian thrust up into Jack’s body, grunting and growling with desire, bouncing the gorgeous young man in his lap. He looked divine and taken apart like this, curls askew and a ruddy glow blossoming up his chest straight to his ears. So young-- _painfully_ young-- and perfect, Nigel swore he’d never laid eyes on anyone more beautiful in his entire life. As the silken clutch of his body surrounded him and swallowed him whole, he felt the painful parts hidden inside him start to crumble away, bathed in the exquisiteness of the nascent beauty above him. There was a sweet, honesty purity in their coupling that Nigel hadn’t felt in a long time, perhaps ever, to this degree.

Jack could feel the air being rushed right out of him as Nigel met his hips more than half way, grinding down as that every slap of skin also sent a thrill through him, cock buried deep inside of Jack, hitting his prostate over and over, until the boy was sweaty and panting, heavily, all but chanting Nigel’s name. Jack had never had anything quite as intense.

Nigel was enjoying everything about this, but wanted more. He sat up, hands firmly on the boy's hips to move him. “Want to get on top of you and give you a proper, hard fucking, gorgeous,” he murmured, his voice deep as honey.

Arms wrapping around Nigel’s shoulders, the younger man gripped Nigel tightly. “Flip me over then.”

Nigel flexed his strong biceps and picked Jack up, gripping him against his own broad frame. He did exactly that- flipped Jack over- remaining inside through the process, buried to the hilt. A sheen of sweat glistened over his furry chest, and now resting his weight fully on Jack, he rolled his hips slowly but deliberately. More than a little pleased with himself, he smirked against Jack’s mouth. “How was that?”

“Perfect,” Jack panted, gripping Nigel’s shoulders now, his ankles crossed behind his back, hips canted up. “I can really feel you like this. All the way inside me.”

“You like it deep like this, do you?” Nigel asked, moving his hands to pin the boy's wrists next to his head, dragging his cock over Jack's prostate slowly, refusing to pick up speed just yet. His caramel-hued eyes looked into Jack's, and he felt himself staring a little too long, getting lost in the younger man's hypnotic gaze. He knew one couldn't possibly fall in love after one fuck, or even during. Even still, he gripped Jack's wrists and pushed over his body to kiss him hard, tongue spearing inside his mouth possessively.

Jack folded nearly in half to take it, to feel every last inch of Nigel, to kiss him hard and wanton. “Yeah,” he panted, stuck where he was, between couch and romanian, not at all unhappy about his current situation.

Nigel withdrew, his thick cock head nearly sliding out entirely, before hovering teasingly and the thrusting in again. Over and over, gradually increasing his pace, tapping on Jack's sweet spot sparingly at first, wanting to watch the desperation build on that fucking beautiful face. “You feel fucking spectacular on my cock,” he whispered, accent thicker as he worked Jack over relentlessly.

Admittedly, Jack had not been fucked like this in a long time, and every stroke to his prostate was treasured and enjoyed, each one making his jaw drop lower and lower, the heat building in his spine. “Fuck-”

Nigel was bruising Jack's wrists, holding them down roughly. There was no friction for the boy’s cock, but for the occasional slap against his own taut belly, a dripping strand of clear pre come connecting the tip of his red, throbbing dick to the center of his chest where he was folded so prettily. “Want me to touch your cock, darling? You look hungry for it.” Nigel purred, raking sharp fangs along the side of Jack's neck with a feral growl.

“Please, please,” Jack chanted, all but begging, his hands stuck over his head, nails leaving white crescents into his own palms, writhing.

Nigel released the boy’s hands and gripped Jack’s weeping erection roughly, sliding up and down faster. He pivoted his hips hard as he stroked, drinking in the gorgeous way Jack writhed beneath him. Jack used his free hand to grasp the back of Nigel's neck, keeping them close as they breathed ragged together, syncing up to the rhythm of their fucking.

“There-” Jack gasped, feeling a life of explosions set fire inside of him, near blinded by the brightness as he body went from casual undulating to spastic rolls of wanton pleasure.

"Your fucking body was made for me, gorgeous. You feel so fucking good, baby," Nigel uttered darkly. He ground down hard, his mouth open against Jack's; the squelching wetness echoed in the room alongside their ragged, panting moans. Nigel rammed in and out faster, slamming harder on each descent, the head of his cock aimed directly at Jack's sensitive gland.

“Perfect-” Jack managed, overheated to the point he knew he was about to brim, the bubbling waves of exotic lust threatening to spill. He grasped Nigel tighter, leaning up to kiss him again, bitingly.

The Romanian sucked his kisses, biting down on a plush lip hard enough to taste sweet little drops of blood. His hands wandered to the younger man's bare ass, pulling and kneading the fleshy globes, pressing and spreading them around his cock. The undulation of the boy's belly as he drew closer and closer to release clutched him like a vice, rippling up and down his length the harder he fucked Jack.

Finally, Jack could take no more and he spilled across his own peachy flesh, gasping and shouting all at once against Nigel’s mouth, heavy breaths filling the air between the slick sounds of slapping flesh.

The big Romanian gasped sharply as Jack came around him, pumping his cock into his body as the boy thrashed and shook under him. Nigel followed soon after, driving the boy into his sofa and spilling inside. He collapsed atop Jack, holding himself up by his arms and kissing into his mouth heatedly. “Fucking hell Jack, you're fucking...incredible,” he whispered. “Think you want to stay?”

“Stay?” Jack asked, panting as he caught his breath, leaving a trail of kisses down Nigel’s throat.

“Stay here, with me, to...live…as long as you like if you want, of course,” Nigel struggled to sound anything but completely lovestruck, which proved to be an exercise in futility. Even as Jack trailed kisses down his neck, he knew he was done for, smitten, a fool for this sinful, perfect boy.  

Jack pulled back to look at Nigel, blue eyes on honey ones, smiling. “Just until I find a spot…”

Nigel tugged him closer to capture his mouth again; it was sweetly intimate, strange to feel so much after one encounter like this, but Nigel was romantic and impulsive. “Until you find a spot,” he whispered back.

 

***

Snow had started to fall outside by the time they got dressed again to get Jack’s belongings from the store. It fell across the streets like a powdery blanket of hope; there was something so cleansing about it, like a new start in the air.  

“I won’t be but a minute,” Jack said, taking keys from the his pocket to open the store, get his things, and get out before the owners knew he had been staying there at all.

Always vigilant, Nigel remained near the door, looking around to see if anyone was watching. Christmas lights flashed dimly in the shop window, casting a colorful glow across the baubles and gems on display.  Jack stepped in and left the door ajar. He gathered what little he had and then came back out with a pack over his shoulder.

“Packing light, I see. Need a hand?” Nigel asked, leaning against the counter casually.

“Do I look frail?” Jack asked, coy. “I got it. This is all I have.” He ducked around the case for a moment, grabbing something and shoved it into his pocket, and then went to push Nigel out of the store once more, locking it up and securing it.

Nigel slipped his arm around Jack’s waist, stealing kisses from him all the way back to his apartment. “You taste like something sweet I've been missing my entire life, darling,” the Romanian whispered in his heavy Eastern European-tinged lisp. From anyone else it might sounds almost corny, but Nigel wasn't a bullshitter. He twisted a silken curl around a fingertip, pushing it behind the boy’s ear. Jack’s face was illuminated by the soft glow of a Santa display in a hardware store window, and the man swore he was falling in love.

***

A week had come and gone. Nigel could scarcely keep his hands off the boy, who didn't seem to mind at all, and even in their brief time together it became clear the two had a lot in common, aside from simply overwhelming sexual attraction to one another.

It was New Year's Eve, and the streets were rapidly filling with revelers, most heading to the Champs-Élysées to celebrate St Sylvestre. Nigel preferred something quieter, and they headed back to the little bar they'd first gone to together. The Romanian wrapped his arms around Jack from behind, kissing the side of his neck and lifting a glass of whiskey with him. “Almost time for the ball to drop, gorgeous,” he whispered.

Jack grinned, leaning back against Nigel, perfectly happy in their new found comfort together, happier than Jack had ever been with anyone in such a short time. Nigel saw through his petty shit pretty quick, and Jack liked that, someone that stood up to him and didn’t just give him exactly what he wanted. He liked working for it.

Raising his glass with Nigel, Jack turned to kiss his cheek softly, leaving his nose there. “Almost.”

Nigel fished around in his pocket for his little surprise for the boy. It was something he’d considered over the course of the week and knew it would be perfect for the young man. The countdown drew nearer, and Nigel touched his glass to Jack’s. “To a new beginning that never would have been if I hadn’t been the luckiest man in Paris,” he said with a grin.

Jack didn’t fall often, or for real, but when he did, his world turned upside down for that person, and Nigel had definitely made an impact in ways Jack couldn’t even begin to fathom. Their glasses clinked and he took a long sip, on his third drink now, blood thrumming through his hot veins. “To us.”

As the chants of “three, two, one” filled the air, Nigel pulled Jack closer and brushed the seam of his pink lips with his own, licking over softly and sliding his tongue inside. He paused only to take a quick sip of whiskey, and with the taste still in him, kissed Jack again deeply. “Happy New Year, gorgeous.”

“Happy New Year,” Jack whispered back, soft blue eyes gazing at Nigel as he swallowed another sip and then kissed the other man again, unable to get enough. He slipped his free hand into his pocket, fingering the weight of something there, waiting for the perfect moment.

The Romanian pulled something small out of his pocket and handed it to Jack; a little box. “I have something for you, darling,” he began, holding it in one hand and offering it to him almost bashfully. Nigel was never shy and yet all the same, he felt nervous excitement over the moment.

Jack downed the rest of his drink and set the cup down to take the box, and opened it, giving Nigel a look before glancing down. Inside was a silver simple key, ordinary  door, with a red ribbon around it. Jack canted his head, curiously.  “A key… to?”

“ _Our_ apartment. I’d like to make it official. If you want to...I’d love you to stay...not just until you land on your feet. Live with me, Jack,” Nigel asked, his amber eyes glowing brighter as he really began to realize how much he cared for this young man.

Jack put the key around his neck, and then pulled out a braclet, well, a cuff, from his pocket, black titanium, and  thin, polished and sleek. Engraved on it was just the date of Christmas Eve, when they met. Jack handed it to Nigel. “I’d love to.”

Nigel's mouth fell open a little as he looked at the beautiful piece. “Fucking hell, Jack. This is...this is amazing darling. Thank you; it's perfect,” he said, setting his drink down to put it on his thick wrist. He wrapped Jack in a warm embrace, hands rubbing firmly along the young man's back. “You're fucking perfect,” he whispered, and he really meant it.

It wasn't a key or anything, but Jack hardly ever gave gifts that meant much, but Nigel meant more to him then he would admit. “Yeah? I know.” He leaned in for another kiss, this one longer, deeper.

As Nigel wrapped his hands around the back of Jack’s neck to lock him against his mouth, the older man moaned softly into his mouth, not caring who saw or what anyone thought. He just knew it was the best fucking holiday he’d ever known.

Jack kissed Nigel back with abandon, arms around him tightly, holding him up against him. Their bodies and mouths melded together into one, and for once, Jack felt like he’d found home.

  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  


**Translations:**

_pizda nenorocitule: pussy motherfucker_

_Fără valoare cacat: worthless shit_

_Salut: Hello_

_Crăciun fericit: Merry Christmas_

_Ce mai faci: How are you_

_Și dumneavoastră?: (response) And, how are you?_

_Prietenul meu: my friend_

_Noapte: Good night_

 


End file.
